


Valaraukar

by Serenade



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Backstory, Balrogs, Canonical Character Death, Extra Treat, Gen, ToT: Monster Mash, alternate viewpoint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8376403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenade/pseuds/Serenade
Summary: I was born in fire and song.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zdenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/gifts).



I was born in fire and song, called from the Void by the voice of the One, my spirit ignited with the Flame Imperishable. Others there were like me, with an affinity for fire. Many names have we borne since then, my kindred and I, but the legends call us the Valaraukar, or Balrogs. And even the dragons beware us.

Glorious were the days when we strode the earth in our might. We who had sung this world into being, why should we yield it to lesser creatures? So Melkor counselled us, and we followed him into rebellion. Fire consumes. Ever it desires more fuel to feed its hunger. So it was with us. We hungered for dominion, for power, for glory.

But what was there to do, when Angband was overthrown, and my Master exiled beyond the Walls of the Night? Only to flee the vengeance of the Powers, and hide from the scorching eyes of the Sun. Long centuries I slept, cradled in the fires in the belly of the earth, reforging my strength.

When Olorin came to Moria, he trespassed on my domain. Olorin, ever observant, ever obstructive, still serving the Powers who would enslave us. I strode out to meet him, the orcs and trolls parting before my wrath. He called me false, a Flame of Hell, to be banished to the shadows. He broke my sword and he broke the bridge.

We fell together into the abyss.

I have known the darkness. I have known the cold. I have known the pits of Utumno, where nameless things crawled. Storm and snow cannot quench me. But far below Moria are the waters that have no name. I heard in their depths an echo of the Great Music, but as though distorted and discordant. The chill waters stripped away my cloak of power. No longer clothed in flame, I was flesh and slime, yoked to this earth by the chains of mortality. The waters were like a cursed mirror, reflecting back a hideous self.

I fought my way to the peak of the mountain, where my flame burst forth like embers rekindling. But Olorin lifted his hand, and a flame blazed from it also. I halted, for I knew what it must be. He bore the Red Ring of Fire. I could feel its pulse like a beating heart, but it was not calling to me.

Through the clouds pierced a new light, warm and clear and bright: Arien, guiding the vessel of the Sun. An eternal fire, unsullied by the darkness beneath the earth. She looked upon me, and I could not endure her eyes.

Once upon a time, I walked in the gardens of Lorien in Valinor, in the mingled light of the Two Trees. We met there often, Arien and Olorin and I. We had sung the Great Music together, but every day, we discovered wonders beyond our dreaming. The golden flowers of Laurelin bloomed with a yellow flame that warmed but did not scorch. I laughed in pure delight. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

Now I strove skyward, in challenge, in defiance, in yearning. But my wings betrayed me. Sunlight shone through them, dissolving them like an illusion. Only smoke and shadow.

Arien called me by my ancient name, as I fell upon the mountain.


End file.
